Chapter 4:
Dean continued to watch out the window until he saw the Impala disappear from view. Then, with his typical smirk, he turned towards the interior of the house.
"Bring it on you little bitch." He called out.
Receiving no response Dean snorted. "That's what I thought."
Looking down at himself Dean realized he was still covered in dirt from his little fall earlier. And thinking about it made his back twinge with ache. Damn Sammy for startling him. He would have loved nothing more than to settle down into that hot tub again and let the jets soothe his muscles. But even though he was a living on the edge kind of guy, even he wasn't stupid enough to try that again. No way was he going to just make himself a sitting duck. He laughed out loud at that thought.
"Guess it's a hot shower." He said to himself.
As he gathered some clean clothes, Dean's thoughts drifted towards his little brother. Something was definitely on Sam's mind. He was holding something back, Dean was sure of it. Sam was just as good as he was at conning and lying, even if he hated, but he could never lie to his big brother. No matter how hard he tried, Dean knew when the kid was keeping something from him. Dean knew all of Sam's tells.
Dean wanted nothing more than to force whatever secret Sam was keeping out of him. And he knew he could do it. Sam was no match for Dean's masterful techniques of breaking Sam's will power. But there had just been too much fighting between them lately and Dean didn't want to start up again. He'd just give Sam some time and space and hope that his brother would eventually feel like he could share the burden. Of course he wasn't going to back off completely. That wasn't his style. Especially when it came to his little brother. He never could stand to see Sam upset. But he was going to stop going at it like a bull.
He had to stop feeling betrayed that Sam was keeping secrets. Because to be fair, he was keeping secrets too. Sam had no idea of Dean's plans after they finished this case. If Sam had even a hint of an idea to what Dean was planning, he'd probably go ballistic and get all emotional. So no, Dean couldn't be angry with his brother. But he was damn sure gonna take care of whatever problem there was.
Feeling a little more resolved about the situation Dean headed to the shower, making sure to take a vial of holy water and his bag of salt. He wasn't going to walk around this house unprepared anymore. That little psycho ghost wasn't going to catch him off guard twice.
Stepping under the warm spray of water Dean released a sigh of relief. It wasn't the jets of the spa, but it was easing his aches just as well. He grabbed a wash rag and scrubbed it over his face, just letting the water penetrate his back. The water seemed to be getting a little warmer, but he ignored it and just relaxed even more, enjoying it.
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Sam gave out a frustrated sigh as he pulled away from the library. Closed for remodeling! What a bunch of crap, he thought. It was a public library. He realized it was a small town, but jeez couldn't they have closed it down in sections? Couldn't one thing go right for him for just once?
Sam pulled away from the curb and headed towards the hotel Bobby and his family were staying in. He hoped they would be able to give him some kind of helpful information. Any little thing would be good at this point. There had to be some clue as to why the little girl's spirit suddenly appeared. Before Bobby had moved in there were no reports of any other incidents that he could find. The land had never been used as a burial ground, and no major incidents had happened there in the past, that was reported anyway. And the house had only been built a couple of years ago, so there wasn't anything there trapping the spirit. Or was there?
The only thing about this case he knew for sure was that the spirit was royally pissed off. And for some reason she seemed to like him, and not Dean.
Thinking of his brother Sam felt a sudden pang of guilt. He really hated the fact that he left Dean at that house alone. He was so against splitting up. Because no matter how much he argued, he knew he was right. Nothing good ever happened when they split up. But of course, big brother won that argument. Just like always. He found it so funny that Dean hated research so much he was willing to stay behind in that house alone.
But then, he shouldn't be surprised. Even when they were kids, Dean would do anything to get out of research. He'd even do all of Sam's chores for a week to get out of whatever type of research needed to be done. Not that Sam ever complained about that. He was always just as happy to let Dean do the laundry and dishes while he read. Dean just wasn't that kind of person. He was a person of action. Taking a situation head on and solving problems as he went. Never worrying about himself and always getting the job done.
A sudden surge of anger washed over Sam and he hit the steering wheel, thinking it was a good thing the car couldn't talk because wouldn't Dean just rip him a new one for that. Why did his brother have to be so damn unselfish? That was the problem. Dean never worried about himself. He put everyone ahead of him. And that was probably why he wanted Sam out of the house. The ghost seemed to attach herself to Sam and that was probably freaking his big brother out. Stupid fool probably thought he could take care of it himself. Just like he did everything else.
That brought another thought to Sam. That was the reason why they were in this situation with the damn deal. Dean and his stupid self-sacrificing ways. But Sam was going to make sure this time turned out different. That for once, Dean was going to come out on top. He just wasn't sure how yet, but for once he was going to be the one to solve the problem.
Driving the Impala and thinking about Dean made Sam suddenly want to call and check on him. Dean would probably make fun of him for it and call him a pansy or something. He could hear Dean's voice now 'what's wrong Sammy, think I can't handle a little girl? You worried about me?'
Oh well, let him make fun. I'll feel better any way, Sam thought. He dug his phone out of his pocket and hit the speed dial. As the phone began to ring Sam pulled up in front of the very expensive looking hotel his friend was staying at. It rang six times before voice mail picked up. Sam frowned then re-dialed. It went to voice mail again. Sam hesitated putting the car in park. He didn't like it when Dean didn't answer his phone. It set off all kinds of alarms. Suddenly Sam was torn between going up to the hotel and just rushing back to the house. He would feel stupid if he showed up in a panic with no information and Dean was just fine. For all he knew his brother could be asleep or have his ear phones on killing off his brain cells with his stupid rock music.
Sam sighed. They needed information. Any type of lead to go on and Dean would only get pissed if Sam ditched his job because he was being twitchy about Dean being alone.
"He's fine. Just get this over with." Sam told himself and started up to the hotel.
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Dean turned in the shower putting his face under the spray and flinched. The water had suddenly become even hotter. He stepped back from the spray a little and reached towards the faucet. But when he went to turn it to cool it wouldn't move. No matter how hard he pushed the dial it wouldn't budge. And then suddenly, with Dean's hand still on it, the dial began to move to the right more, until it was turned as far as it would go to hot. Steam was already beginning to billow, fogging the shower door and making the hot water seem even hotter. Dean pressed himself against the shower wall trying to stay out of the spray of the stinging water.
He tried with all of his might to shut the water off, but it wouldn't move. "Fine!" he yelled out. "Screw this." he said and pushed the shower door to step out. Only, it wouldn't open. "What the hell?"
Steam was really beginning to billow around him now, making it look like the bathroom was filled with fog. Dean was smashing himself up against the door to stay away from the shower head, but some of the spray was still hitting his back and legs and the water was scalding. He put all of his weight behind his push into the glass door but it was liked it had been welded shut. There wasn't even a hint of give.
The water was starting to pool at his feet now, setting them on fire. He looked down and could see his feet and legs were already unnaturally red. He could only imagine what his back looked like. The steam was even worse now, almost making it hard to breathe it was so humid. He started really hitting the shower door now, but nothing was happening. Through the glass door he could see the blurry shape of his vial of holy water and bag of salt.
He let out a frustrated laugh. Bunch of good that did him. "You little bitch!" he yelled out. "I'm gonna fry you!"
With the palm of his hand he hit the door once more, but it didn't even shudder at his force. The water was way beyond scalding now. His back and feet were on fire and now sweat was mixing with the water running down his body. With no other choice, Dean bent down and picked up the discarded wash rag. He wrapped the small rag around his fist. This was gonna hurt, and the rag was not going to offer much protection, but he didn't have any other option. He could feel himself getting weak from the heat and humidity. And this was another way he wasn't about to die. This would be worse than dying in the spa.
With a yell of frustration he threw his weight behind the punch and sent his fist through the glass door. The pain was instant and sharp. He could feel glass digging into his knuckles and then along his forearm as his arm went through. The door was thick and he wouldn't be surprised later to find he had broken a few bones in his hand. But now he had a start.
The first punch had caused a large section of the glass to shatter but he had to work at it a little longer to get a big enough hole to fit through. It still wasn't quite big enough as jagged pieces of glass caught his shoulders, arms, and sides. As carefully as he could he stepped through the glass on the floor. Without wasting time he grabbed his bag of salt.
"Come on you little bitch! Show yourself!"
That creepy giggle once again preceded the girl. Then she flickered into sight, just inside the closed door. Without hesitation Dean doused her with an entire handful of salt. She hissed in shock as she disappeared.
"I hope that hurt like hell!" Dean yelled.
The water behind him immediately shut off leaving the bathroom in an eerie silence. But satisfied that she wouldn't be showing up again at least for a little while Dean let himself relax. He grabbed a towel, wrapping it around himself and headed out of the bathroom. He'd worry about the mess later.
He made his way to the bedroom he was using and let himself fall backwards to the bed. He knew he was probably staining the quilt with blood, but he couldn't care less. He was too tired. He would buy them a new one after they were done. Right now all he wanted to do was relax. His skin was on fire and the heat had really depleted him. He just needed to close his eyes for a minute.
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As soon as Sam was back in the Impala after talking to Bobby, he tried Dean's cell again. And as it had been fro the last hour, it went straight to voice mail. Sam was sure something was wrong now. Without regard to what his brother would say, he floored the Impala and went squealing out of his parking spot, leaving tire marks behind. It would only take him about ten minutes to get back to the house, but that was ten more minutes too long. His mind wasn't even on the information he had gathered from his friend. Once he saw that his brother was okay, he could decide what to do with that. Right now, he just had to ease his mind. The closer he got to the house the more worried he became. For some reason the feeling of water and heat rushed over him. It was intense and just came out of nowhere and left him feeling even more confused and panicked.
When the gravel driveway came into view Sam turned and pressed the gas down as far as it could go, throwing dirt and rocks up behind him. He slammed on the brakes and cut the ignition. Barely remembering to take the keys with him as he ran to the house.
But when he reached the door, no matter how worried he was, his father's training and his hunter's instincts took over. If something was wrong, rushing in would do no good. So instead, he forced himself to stop and take a breath, opening the door slowly. The house was quiet. He put his hand in his pocket and kept a grip on the small vial of salt he always carried.
"Dean!" He called out, not too loudly.
Everything looked normal. As he looked around the house he found Dean's cell phone on the kitchen counter.
"Hey Dean, you around?" He called again.
Cautiously, he began to make his way toward the back of the house where the bedrooms were. It was still way too quiet. Although he was worried, and somehow just knew something was wrong, Sam was glad that he wasn't sensing the presence of the ghost right now. Even the constant humming he was feeling earlier wasn't there.
He passed the room he had been using and made his way to the next one. He stepped into the doorway and froze. His breath caught in his throat and his heart definitely skipped a beat.
"No." he managed to whisper.
There, on the bed, was Dean. Laying on his back, his head turned to the side, eyes closed. A towel was wrapped around his waist. He could almost look like he was just sleeping if it wasn't for the blood. The blood that had run down his shoulders and arms. The blood that smeared over is left side. And his left hand, wrapped in a bloody rag. And on top of all of that, parts of him looked like he had a really bad sunburn.
Breaking out of his trance, Sam pushed himself forward. He bent over his brother grabbing his chin and turning his head to face him.
"Dean!"
Instantly Dean's eyes sprang open wide. His instincts kicked in and he pulled away from Sam ready to throw a punch.
"No! It's me!" Sam yelled.
Dean released a breath and slumped back down. "Damn it Sammy, you trying to get hurt?"
"What the hell happened to you?" Sam asked, his eyes wide at the amount of blood covering his brother.
Dean let out a bitter laugh. "Let's just say I now understand what a Lobster must go through. And dude, I'm never eating it again."
Sam just stood in shock. Of course his brother had to give a cryptic answer. What else did he expect?
"Chill out Sam. I'm fine." Dean said, forcing himself to sit up.
"You're covered in blood and were passed out. I don't think that qualifies as fine Dean."
"I wasn't passed out. I fell asleep. My last encounter with Princess was kind of draining."Dean said.
"Whatever. I'm gonna get the first aid kit and then you can explain." Sam said. He quickly ran to his room to dig the kit out of the duffel. He returned to find Dean inspecting his hand.
"Is it broken?" Sam asked as he kneeled in front of Dean.
Dean sighed. "Maybe some of the small bones. But my fingers still work. Surprisingly."
Sam shook his head as he started cleaning up his brother. "Geez man. You're like a kid. I can't leave you alone for even a little while without you getting into trouble." Dean didn't reply. Sam looked up. "You okay?"
Dean rolled his eyes. "I'm fine Sam. Anything need stitches?"
"I don't think so. Most of these cuts are pretty shallow. I think the butterfly bandages should do. Now will you please tell me what the hell happened?"
Almost twenty minutes later Sam was finally satisfied that he had done all he could for Dean. He had sat quietly and listened to Dean's story. It was almost funny if it hadn't been so not funny. This ghost was sure creative, he had to give her that.
"So, how did your day go dear?" Dean asked Sam, giving him a hint of a smile. Anything to lighten the mood.
"Well, I have a lead for us to follow. Finally."
Dean's eyebrows raised. "About time."
"Don't get too excited. I didn't say it was a big lead. It's pretty thin actually. But it's all I could get."
"Anything is better than nothing Sam. And if anyone can turn nothing to something, it'd be you." He stood up and was about to remove his towel to get dressed then stopped. He cleared his throat giving a pointed look to Sam. "Think I could get a little privacy here Sammy?"
Sam rolled his eyes and laughed. "Not a problem man. Believe me, I don't wanna see."
He kept laughing as he walked out the door.
A half hour later they had walked a mile down the road and were approaching a modest house set in the middle of grape vineyards.
"We should have drove." Dean complained for the tenth time.
"Give me a break Dean. It wasn't that far." Sam said as he rang the doorbell.
"Yeah, well next time we'll fry your feet and then make you walk. See what you say then."
Sam sighed. "Would you please shut up." He rang the door bell again.
"Looks like no ones home." Dean said peering through the front window.
Sam grabbed his jacket and pulled him back. "Don't do that! She might see you and we need to talk to her Dean. Not get arrested for being a peeping tom."
"Whatever. You said she might, and I express the word might, have information. Why am I even here? I should be resting." Dean really didn't care to talk to the old woman who lived here. Sam was better with old people than he was.
"Because I can't leave you alone. So would you please just shut the..." Sam was cut short as the door opened. "Ah, hi Mrs. Clarkson. My name is Sam and this Dean. May we talk to you for a minute?"
The old woman looked at Sam and frowned. Then, in a very loud voice, said "What! Speak up boy I can't hear a word you're sayin'!"
Dean couldn't stop the laugh that escaped him and Sam gave him an evil glare in return.
-TBC-
A/N: So there's another chapter for you! Hope you liked it and once again I appreciate all of your patience in between updates. I'd love to know what you thought of this one!
Till next time :)